


Always a Good Idea

by Pixelatrix



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixelatrix/pseuds/Pixelatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an AU of my story Always a Bad Idea.  This will be a short exploration of what would've happened if Hackett had entered Harper's life much earlier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Always a Bad Idea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/947957) by [Pixelatrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixelatrix/pseuds/Pixelatrix). 



> I hope everyone enjoys it.
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos, subscriptions and comments.
> 
> Bioware Owns All, sadly.
> 
> Beta: CelticGrace & MissMeggo929

At just shy of thirty, Hackett found his career damn near perfect. He had managed to closely follow the plan he’d plotted out for himself years ago. Nothing stood in his way as far as achieving the highest pinnacles available to an Alliance officer.

His life was _perfect._

Right up to the moment a five year old child stumbled into his quarters on his ship and created chaos out of his carefully ordered world. His XO—Allan Shepard—had brought his daughter Harper on their short mission from Arcturus to Elysium. Several of the officers on the ship had brought their children with them actually for such a quick jump.

Harper Shepard had her mother’s hair, but her eyes had completely stunned him. Neither Hannah nor Allan had that particular shade of blue. His grandmother had always called it the ‘Hackett’ blue.

His strong suspicions were confirmed when Harper ran into him coming out of his quarters.   As Hackett knelt to help her to her feet, he spotted an all too familiar birthmark on the inside of her elbow—one identical to his own. Harper Shepard was his daughter.

Sitting in the quiet privacy of his cabin, Hackett found himself drawn to the evening around six years ago when Hannah had connived her way into his bed. He’d discovered not long after that she’d lied about being divorced.   She’d conned her way through an impressive number of the admiralty in a similar method—all under the nose of her poor husband.

Allan Shepard was a good man—mild-mannered, but fair and loyal to a fault. Hackett had developed a deep friendship with him over the past years of their assignment together. His stomach still turned when he thought about Hannah having been in his bed.   It had been made worse when Allan had taken his confessional remarkably well.

Not wanting anything between them, Hackett had explained everything to Allan the moment he’d realized Hannah had lied. Allan had looked resigned, but not overly surprised. They’d never mentioned it again.

A year after Hackett discovered the birthmark on Harper. He received a bewildering message from a dead man. Allan had left it with his attorney to be forwarded to the Admiral in the case of his death.

The message included a copy of two paternity tests. One proving Allan _wasn’t_ Harper’s father, the other proving Hackett was.   He had no idea how the man had gotten access to his DNA for the test.

Allan’s note was short—fight for her. _Fight for her?_ What exactly did that mean? He knew Allan had been weakened by his sudden illness before he passed away.

Hannah might’ve been a scheming witch, but she couldn’t be that terrible of a mother. _Right?_ Hacket’s thoughts were drawn to the little oddities over the years like the way Allan stressed about Harper in his absence or the girl’s obvious discomfort around the female crew on his ship or worse, her overly timid nature.

Timidity was _not_ a Hackett trait.

Telling his pilot to set a return course for Arcturus, Hackett sent messages to his attorney and Allan’s as well.   If his fears about Hannah turned out to be true, then he intended to abide by the man’s request to fight for Harper. He wanted to start getting the legal ball rolling.

He sent an additional message to his personal yeoman on the station for the young man to find an interior designer who could turn one of the spare bedrooms in the Admiral’s apartment into a room fit for a six year old.   He wanted to do things the _right_ way. Harper deserved to feel at home wherever she lived and having her own things would likely help.

For all his faults, Allan had been a good father—or at least the best he could’ve been. Harper would deserve the best from Hackett.     _Could he be a good father?_

_Would Harper even want him to try?_

* * *

 

_From: David Anderson_

_To: Steven Hackett_

_Subj: re: Hannah Shepard._

_What do you mean you might be Harper’s father?_

_How the…nevermind, I don’t think I really want the details on that one._

_How can I help? I’ve never been overly fond of the woman. She’s too tightly wound and comes down far too heavily on the junior officers in her command. I don’t like to think about what sort of mother she might be._

_Down to brass tacks then, I assume you’re working on preparing your apartment for a kid. Do you have clothes and toys? I know the kid would have stuff of her own at her mothers, but she might like knowing you thought about her._

_Have you met Harper before?_

_I spent a bit of time with her and Allan. I know the kid is really into Jujitsu and a few other martial arts. Might be a way for you to connect with her?_

_David_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoys it.
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos, subscriptions and comments.
> 
> Bioware Owns All, sadly.
> 
> Beta: CelticGrace & MissMeggo929

The first time Hackett saw Harper was in one of the many conference rooms on Arcturus with his attorney. The seven year old huddled into one of the large leather chairs in the room and stared down at her white and purple striped sneakers. She wore an overly large, long-sleeve sweater which struck him as odd. He remembered Allan mentioning the girl lived in either pajamas or jeans and a Bruce Lee t-shirt.

_Why the hell was she wearing a sweater?_

The meeting between all parties involving the custody of Harper didn’t go well. Things had started smoothly with the attorneys and a child advocate handling most of it while Hannah whined about how unfair it was and Hackett focused his attention on the quiet little girl. She seemed intent on disappearing into the background.

“Harper?”

Whatever Hackett had intended to say drifted from his mind when his daughter finally looked up at him.   He caught the barest glimpse of shading across her cheek and eye that was masked by make-up and he saw red. He forced his jaw _and_ hands to unclench at the sudden tenseness in Harper’s body.

The sudden _awareness._

_No, no, no._

She wouldn’t dare.

_Would she?_

With exaggerated slowness so as not to startle the child, Hackett snagged one of the glasses of water from the table. He pulled out a clean handkerchief from his pocket to dip it in the water then gently cleaned the caked on make-up from around Harper’s cheek and eye. He ignored the gasps from both attorneys at what was revealed on the trembling girl’s face.

“Do you know who I am?” He hadn’t really had a chance to just _talk_ to her and had no idea how much she understood about what was going on.

“Admiral Hackett.” Harper looked up at him so seriously that he had to smother his urge to laugh. She looked…like his daughter. She leaned forward in the chair to whisper to him. “My daddy said you were my other dad. ‘zat mean I can live with you? ‘cause mom’s kinda mean without daddy around.”

Hackett watched his daughter fidget with her left sleeve. It revealed a set of finger-shaped bruises around her forearm. He shifted his gaze from her arm to the uneasy blue eyes watching him. “Do you want to come home with me?”

“Yeah.”

“You traitorous little bitch. Weak, just like Allan,” Hannah snapped angrily.

Harper shot out of the chair with her little hands clenched into fists at her side. “You leave my daddy alone. He was the best ever. You’re just a mean old lady.”

Hackett was struck with the notion that this wasn’t the first time Harper stood up for Allan to Hannah. His daughter had more of the Hackett steel than he initially thought. He wondered how many times the little girl had stood between her over-bearing mother and her mild-mannered father, probably too often.

He rested a hand gently on her shoulder then glanced between his attorney and the child advocate. “My daughter _will_ be turned over to my custody—today.”

“You can’t…”

Hackett’s attention snapped toward Hannah causing her to take a step back at the menace in his stare. “I believe you’ll find the MPs looking for you once I have a doctor check over Harper’s injuries and forward the report on to them.”

_Three Hours._

It took less than three hours for the custody transfer to be pushed through. While the legal team worked with child services, Hackett sat next to his daughter with her hand held gently, but firmly in his own. Harper observed everything with a surprisingly calm air about her.

“Dad?”

His heart did a strange little stutter at that one precious word. “Yes?”

Harper kept her gaze on the laces of her sneakers. “Daddy promised you’d stand up for me.”

“Yes, yes I will, I promise.” He squeezed her hand lightly.

“But…how come he didn’t?” Harper glanced up at him with hurt and confusion evident in her eyes. “Never, why’d he let mom…ya know?”

“I…” Hackett couldn’t bring himself to say the first thing that came to his mind about the man. She wouldn’t understand the generally passive personality he had been. “Allan loved you very much.”

“Yeah.” Harper fidgeted with her sleeves again. “’s’not fair.”

“No.” Hackett reached down to lift her into his lap. She hesitantly rested her head against his chest. “I’m sorry, Harper, sorry that all of your parents failed you.”

“Can I…”

“Can you what?”

“Mom stopped my jujitsu.”

Hackett raised an eyebrow at his daughter. He’d thought Anderson was exaggerating her interest in martial arts. She wasn’t even eight yet. He was glad that he’d thought to renovate two rooms in his quarters, one for her room and one as a mini-dojo. “I’ll talk to your sensei.”

“Really?” Harper blinked at him in surprise. “Dad never…”

“He never?”

She scrunched her nose as she thought carefully. “It’s gonna be different now, isn’t it?”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoys it.
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos, subscriptions and comments.
> 
> Bioware Owns All, sadly.
> 
> Beta: CelticGrace & MissMeggo92

So this is Harper's last chapter:  
  


Looking back on the first night with her father, Harper thought their awkwardness to be kind of hilarious. They’d clumsily attempted to play father and daughter. Twelve years later, she felt forever grateful that he chose to fight for her when he had no real obligation to do so.

Her dad’s request notwithstanding, Harper had no doubts that Hackett could’ve chosen to ignore the letter from Allan without anyone ever finding out. It didn’t surprise her that her father had fought for her. It was who he was.

And she loved him for it.

Her mother had never attempted to contact her again. Hannah had been released from the brig to find herself free for the first time in years without the restraints of a husband or her unwanted daughter. She’d taken the chance and disappeared from Harper’s life.

Eighteen year old Harper was happy with her mother’s absence. At seven however, it had broken her already bruised heart. Her father helped pick up all the confused little pieces. He’d been the rock which Allan had never had the strength to be.

Harper understood it all now.

It had been harder as a kid.

Much harder.

“You ready for this?”

Harper looked up from where she’d been repacking her kit bag to cope with a last minute bout of nerves. “As I’ll ever be.”

“You sure you’re ready for the trials of boot camp? They won’t go easy on Admiral Hackett’s kid.” Her father leaned against her dresser with concern evident in his eyes. His gaze drifted to where she was shoving socks into her bag. “Didn’t you have all this packed last week?”

“Yeah.” She fidgeted with the zipper of her bag. It had been Allan’s once upon a time. She’d refused to get rid of it when Hannah attempted to throw it out. “Do you…”

“Do I?”

“Do you think I can do this?” Harper flopped back on her bed with a groan. “I’m gonna suck at this.”

“You aced your exams. You graduated at the top of your class at the academy. And you are the most talented student your sensei has ever seen.” Hackett’s voice had lost the teasing tone from earlier as he moved over to sit on the edge of the bed. “And barring all of that, you are _my_ daughter. You’ll be spectacular.”

“I don’t want to be spectacular.” Harper didn’t really want the attention which seemed to follow the Hackett name. It was part of why she’d wanted to keep Shepard as her surname. “I just want to be an average recruit.”

“Nothing average about you, kid, sorry.” He reached out to take her hand. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Epic humiliation and failure?”

Her father barked out a laugh which continued when she glared at him. “You will be _fine._ ”

“But what if I suck?”

“Then we’ll send you off to that dojo in Japan your sensei talks about so you can become a teacher,” Hackett shrugged.

“And you’re just going to make that decision for me?”

“If you’re being irrational about your life, yes I will.”

Harper grabbed one of the rolled up socks from the top of her bag to beam at his head. “Be nice, I’m having a moment of teenage angst.”

“This is nice.”

“ _Dad._ ”

“Fine, fine.” He reached out to take her hand. “You will be fine, Harper. I promise. Besides, I’m sure Allan is watching over you.”

Harper had always been grateful that Hackett never shied away from discussing the man who had raised her for the first years of her life. “Do you think he’d be proud?”

“Definitely.”

“Are…”

“I would be proud of you no matter what, Harper. You’re my daughter.” He squeezed her hand then released it to get to his feet. “Celebratory pizza?”

“Can I have beer?”

“No.”

“Uncle David lets me have one.” Harper let her father drag her to her feet.

“No.”

“Hey Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“Remember when you brought me home?” Harper looped her arm around his while they headed toward the living room. “Thanks for…being a good dad and all.”

He leaned over to kiss the side of her head. “The answer is still no.”

“I’m eighteen.”

“Then wait until you’re paying for the beer yourself.” He frowned at her then laughed when she gave him a hug. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Harper’s Face reference: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/image/59717314645


End file.
